Erudition

By Keiraun

Ratings: T


Wow, it's been one chapter since it took me AEONS to update, but here I am! Back again! With another chapter for you! Oooo, did you notice above? The rating just climbed. Climbed! Will it climb again? Certainly. Is that why you've stuck with the fic this long? Hopefully not.

Oh, someone asked me how much time passed between chapters 1-6, and about ages and seasons in the story. The answer for how much time elapsed is a month. I actually hadn't even thought of that, then I reread all the chapters and determined that I'd written 3 weeks had passed then skipped from Saturday to Wednesday, so, that's about a month. The time of year is pretty much October-November. Haruhi's in her first year of graduate college. As Kyouya studied abroad, he had more opportunities to finish college sooner. This would make Haruhi about 22 and Kyouya around 23/24.


Ootori Kyouya could not quite grasp quite what he was feeling. It was something like frustration, with a touch of something more hurt, but not as deep as betrayal. Whatever this nameless emotion was, it gnawed at him, right at the back of his throat, making him want to scream or sigh, he didn't quite know which, as he finished the rest of his orientation with Mazaka-san. But, as he always did, he stood there and smiled that disingenuous smile and fooled everyone he met.

He was sick of being insincere. He was sick of being more Ootori than Kyouya.

He was sick of being the same even though everything had changed.

And so he walked back home, or more precisely, what he had recently grown to consider his home, the small Tokyo apartment of Fujioka Haruhi. He walked up the unimpressive stairs to the complex, lingered at the handle momentarily before opening the door.

"Surprise," a small burst of confetti popped before him, "Happy Birthday?"

Haruhi stared at Kyouya from a few feet away and he blinked once, then twice, then once more, before bursting into a roaring laughter. Haruhi laughed awkwardly as Kyouya wiped the corner of his eyes.

"I know I'm about three days early but it's more surprising if, you know," she explained weakly, waving her hands about, "if it's… uh…. really unexpected… I made dinner!"

"You made dinner," he said as he recomposed himself.

"Hn. I made all the things I though you'd like, extra spicy the way you like them, nothing too sweet, noodles hot, not cold, curried vegetables, and I got a pretty nice bottle of koshu. I didn't know if you like koshu or not but you know it's pretty nicely aged…"

And there was a pause, silence, and another lock of eyes.

"I sound like an idiot," she said, flatly. "I guess I just wanted to say I'm sorry about today, and maybe do something special."

"Thank you, Haruhi," he said with a smile, letting his heart show more then he usually would. Why not? They were friends, living together, young, happy, and there weren't nearly as many strings weighing down his actions.

He might as well enjoy being just Kyouya while he could.

She smiled back, a smile that was remarkably tranquil, a smile that suggested all was right again. She took him by the hand and led him to the table before piling plate after plate of delicious dishes and pouring the koshu,

"Kanpai, Kyouya-sempai," she said, the nostalgia of his last day in the Host Club rushing back to him, and the memory of who he was on that day weighing down on the moment that was occurring.

"Just Kyouya."

"Eh?"

"Just Kyouya," he repeated, lifting his sake to hers, "I haven't been your sempai for years."

"Kanpai, Kyouya" (the way she said Kyouya was slow and labored, as if she was reciting some foreign phrase) and tapped her glass to his.

The dinner was pleasant, delicious at that, and the bottle of koshu had the most distinct bitter-honey flavor. It went down smooth, glass after glass. Considering she seldom drank, by the end of the bottle Haruhi felt the slightest bit unsteady but remarkably chipper.

"So, Kyouya, what do you want for a gift?" Haruhi asked plainly as she sat down slightly closer to him on the couch than she typically would.

"I don't need anything," he replied, having given his birthday no thought considering his predicaments. She let out a rather uneven laugh that seemed a tad out of character.

She placed her hand firmly on his thigh, leaning in slightly, "It doesn't matter what you need. You can't tell me there's nothing you want."

He blinked down at her hand, again and again, before he felt his glasses being slid off the tip of his nose. He looked over at Haruhi as she placed the spectacles over her own eyes and smiled. "Maybe some new frames would be nice," she said, tipping her head from side to side, the bridge of sliding left to right. She seemed a bit too amused by what she was doing, being just a bit too capricious.

"Careful with those," he chided, reaching forward.

"Careful, careful, careful… Maybe you could use something fun for once. What would be fun, Kyouya-sempai?" The hand upon his leg moved back and forth thoughtlessly as she pondered possible gifts.

"Fun?" he asked, clenching his teeth to orient himself, "What do you mean?"

"I don't know… maybe a Gameboy? Sudoku booklets?" With her free hand she tapped the corner of his frames, which she still wore, "You know, it's pretty interesting that we have about the same prescription." She gave his leg a slight squeeze.

With that, he reached over and took back his glasses. He adjusted them over his own nose and attempted to give a pleasant smile. He stood up, straightened his shirt, and took a deep breath. Haruhi looked up at him, slightly perplexed.

"Maybe I should ask what it is that you want, Haruhi."

"Why do you ask?" she said, obviously confused.

He tilted his head to the side and smiled again, "…I see. Well, I'll give it some thought, alright?"

"Good!"

"Well, I think I left something back at the store, I'll be back shortly, alright?"

"Alright," she replied with a sigh, "see you later."

He walked out of her apartment quickly and sat on the stoop. His mind was reeling and his whole body ached in frustration.

What he wanted? He wanted her. Problem was, he didn't want to take advantage of her when she was possibly inebriated and didn't have any idea of the torture she was inflicting on him. He didn't want to do something that would deter his chances of gaining her affection.

He had recently determined that more than anything, he wanted her affection.

Kyouya walked to the shop where he worked, and upon noting that the sign read "closed" let himself in with his newly bestowed key. He grabbed a box of cigarettes (though he hadn't had a smoke since his summer in Ireland he had a rather strong craving at that moment), a lighter, a pack of gum to hide the smell, and a box of condoms. He put the money for them in the cash box, since he had emptied the register that night.

He slid the protection into his wallet, reasoning with himself it is better safe than sorry, put the gum into his pocket and lit a cigarette that he finished by the time he reached the apartment again.

She was already in bed, asleep, when he opened the door.

He sat down on the couch and unwrapped a piece of gum watched a story on a duet album with Hiseki Hiromi and Ketori Shino and rumors about a possible relationship between the two. Feeling frustrated and a bit envious, he drifted off into an uneasy sleep.